


punch mox

by harperuth



Series: i met you in the summer [5]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, in the sense that prowl is not using ssc s&m play here, valve slapping, will i ever write prowl not being weird about sex? absolutely not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:47:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25428646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harperuth/pseuds/harperuth
Summary: Starscream snarled, every ounce of propriety forgotten. His plating was drawn tight, wings hiked high and out, mirroring Prowl’s own frame. Yes, Prowl thought viciously when Starscream took that last step, pressing cockpit to chassis, Do it. Hurt me.Starscream ducked down and kissed him.
Relationships: Prowl/Starscream (Transformers)
Series: i met you in the summer [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1828810
Comments: 11
Kudos: 102





	punch mox

**Author's Note:**

  * For [steelrunner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelrunner/gifts).



> ah yes boys, the storied return
> 
> for the prompt 'valve slapping' with prowl/starscream
> 
> title is...well...it's a three layers deep permutation of munch box > bunch mox > punch mox

“At least I’m not chasing the mudflaps of an absent Prime that never cared for me in the first place,” Starscream sneered.

The glyphs were clearly intended to lance at Prowl, but his spark just spun faster. Finally, he was getting somewhere, “I’m doing better than the cast-off of an empire that never was, that never held anything but the utmost contempt for me.”

Starscream snarled, every ounce of propriety forgotten. His plating was drawn tight, wings hiked high and out, mirroring Prowl’s own frame. _Yes_ , Prowl thought viciously when Starscream took that last step, pressing cockpit to chassis, _Do it. Hurt me._

Starscream ducked down and kissed him.

For a sickening moment Prowl was sure he was going to glitch out and crash. He’d planned every single step on Starscream’s pedes, every dig at his authority, every hurtful, vicious word about Starscream’s past, all for the single crystalline result of _hit me hit me do it hurt me make me feel_ something _._ He kissed back on autopilot, netting his frontal processing power to calculate the likelihood of this possibility.

84%.

Hm.

Prowl rededicated his frontal processor to the present situation, where Starscream cradled his face in one servo gently, the other pressing just the tips of his digits to Prowl’s abdominal plating. Starscream’s kiss was soft, barely any pressure to the movement of his lips. His glossa wasn’t even attempting to make an appearance.

Prowl wanted to tear his own plating off.

He pulled back, “I—”

Starscream caught one look at his face and scrambled backwards, “Slag.”

“Why—?” Prowl tried again, but Starscream had already booked it out of the room. He considered his options. He ran his TACNET several times.

Starting over it was then.

\- - -

“I’m amazed your ego allows you to fly at all,” Prowl grinned. It was not a happy thing. Almost an Earth animals baring of teeth more than anything else, “And what would you be without that pretty Seeker shell to hide behind?”

Starscream’s servos slammed into the table on either side of his hips. Prowl’s processor ran hot, defense protocols cropping up only to be shot down again; TACNET screaming as several cycles worth of plans came to fruition. Starscream sneered, “At least I know how to rebuild myself again. What happens when that Enforcer badge falls off, Prowl? Does the rest of you fall to pieces?”

Prowl took the initiative this time, working his digits into Starscream’s turbine and yanking him forwards. Prowl bit Starscream’s lips, engine growling, free servo scratching at his wing. For a moment, his frame lit up, everything coalescing exactly how he wanted it.

Then—

Prowl unshuttered his optics at the cool air in front of him. Starscream was no longer in the room, let alone touching him. Prowl cycled his intake.

Frag.

\- - -

Prowl wasn’t sure why he’d fixated on Starscream. 

There were some obvious reasons. Starscream was, objectively, beautiful. Prowl admired the way he’d seized any scrap of power even remotely available to him. Prowl, for all his careful planning and strategies, loved a bad idea.

(And he had so many to ruminate on in the dead of the night cycles.)

It wasn’t like he couldn’t go elsewhere for what he wanted. There were plenty of mechs easy to drive up a wall, or, well, drive into throwing him against a wall. Or through a wall. Over a wall once, that had been a good one. All to say, Prowl knew he could get his goals anywhere, far more easily.

But there was something about Starscream that he couldn’t let go of.

He felt so _close_ and yet so far away. No one had ever gotten under his plating this easily, this incessantly. Not even Jazz, and he’d been _trying_.

(Another bad idea to ruminate on.)

Prowl wanted Starscream to _tear him apart_. 

\- - -

“Oh?” Prowl pushed himself all the way into Starscream’s space, relishing the screech of glass against his bumper, “What are you going to do about it? Hit me?”

Prowl was ready this time. He dug his digits into Starscream’s exposed wires, leaned back on the desk he’d been backed against and hooked a leg around Starscream’s. Starscream strained at his hold. Prowl gunned his engine, “Answer me.”

“No,” Starscream whispered, “No, I’m not going to hit you.”

“Why. The frag. Not?” Prowl’s digits tightened. Starscream’s wires creaked, and he winced. Prowl watched his face, studied his optics. Starscream looked away.

“No,” Starscream said again.

“You kissed me?” Prowl said. It wasn’t meant to be a question.

“Yes,” Starscream looked back at that, bringing a servo up to trace a digit around Prowl’s optic, “That, I did.”

“But you won’t hit me,” Prowl’s processes were all working at different speeds, trying to understand. His TACNET was in a frenzy, predicted outcomes not coming to fruition.

“No,” Starscream looked...sad. Prowl let him go. Starscream took a step back, but Prowl didn’t move. Still sat on the edge of his desk, _Starscream’s_ desk, where he planned and worked and did his level best to destroy Prowl’s sanity.

Prowl shuttered his optics a few times, still staring at Starscream, “Well...slag.”

\- - -

Prowl didn’t like soft touches. 

They made his plating crawl, worse than any scraplet. He liked being scratched, crushed and crumbled, protoform bruised. It was a sticking point in most any attempt at a relationship.

Jazz hadn’t liked it.

They’d found compromises.

\- - - 

“You’d like me to what?” Starscream’s optics cycled. He sat back on his heels. Prowl frowned, sitting back up.

“Slap my valve,” Prowl said again.

Starscream stared at him, “I’m sorry, once more.”

Prowl sighed and put together a data package, pinging it to Starscream’s comm. Starscream’s optics dimmed while he perused it. Prowl tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. 

“I don’t understand,” Starscream finally said. Prowl exvented, studying the gilded molding. Ridiculous.

“I find it pleasurable,” Prowl said, bored, “More so than any gentility. And if you’re not going to hit me otherwise, this is the compromise I’ve found has worked with other partners.”

“Primus,” Starscream muttered. Prowl rolled his head back around to look at him.

“Look, if you’re not going to do it, just tell me now,” Frustration poured through his frame, “I’d like to know if I’m going to overload at all this eve—”

Starscream tapped his array with his digits. Prowl stared at him. Starscream stared back. Prowl cycled his optics, “Are you—? I said _slap_. Surely you’ve slapped someone befo—”

This time the back of his digits worked themselves up to an entire swat, and the input skittered through his sensornet. Prowl exvented a soft noise, “Alright.”

“Frag,” Starscream said, optics wide as he stared down at his own servo, “I—”

“You should sit on my face,” Prowl decided. Starscream’s wide optics shifted to him. Prowl grinned. Bared his denta. Whatever, “I’m going to swallow your spike while you slap my valve.”

Starscream didn’t move. Well, most of him. His spike pressurized. Prowl reached out and gripped it, rolling a squeeze through his digits, “Well?”

Starscream finally moved, scrambling to his servos and knee joints to crawl up the berth. Prowl laid back down, gripping his hips when he finally slung a leg over his helm, angling him correctly. Prowl licked over the tip of his spike, “You’d best make this good.”

Starscream had a nice spike, smooth and manufactured. Prowl wondered idly how many times it had been replaced as it slipped past his intake. Starscream groaned, hips twitching. Prowl hummed in encouragement, pressing at Starscream’s aft.

“Frag,” Starscream gasped, shuffling until he got enough leverage to thrust shallowly into Prowl’s mouth. 

Prowl let him get his bearings for a klik before pinging his comm, ‘Starscream.’

“Frag, alright,” Starscream muttered. Getting his mouth fragged was a pretty good compromise too. Low level charge hummed through his system. Maybe he could get Starscream to really go for it, toss him on his knees and make him take it. Prowl marked that thought for another time.

Now, his system began to lock up in anticipation. He liked this part too, the waiting. Not knowing when or where the strike was coming next, how hard it was going to be. The calipers in his valve cycled.

Starscream’s digits impacted with his mesh, a little softer than he’d like, but the _claws_.

Prowl groaned, hips thrusting up into the air. Starscream made a soft sound. Prowl focused on his vents, while the sharp, skittering input flashed through his circuits. He pinged Starscream, ‘Harder.’

Starscream hit him again, and rather than pulling back immediately, his servo lingered, two digits curling into Prowl’s valve just enough that his claws nicked a node on the way out. Prowl’s fans roared to life. Starscream slid his servo up and pinched his node, “Alright.”

Starscream could multitask. Prowl was sure he’d known that in the back of his processor, but he’d never considered that it might allow Starscream to pick up a smooth, rolling rhythm into his intake, while keeping his slaps to Prowl’s valve unpredictable.

Sometimes they were the barest taps. A nicely hard swat, here and there. Starscream interlaid these with raking claws to his mesh, pinches to his node, rough digits in his valve. Prowl shook through each bright burst of charge.

Starscream’s hips stuttered, and he pressed close suddenly, grinding his weight into Prowl’s face. Prowl moaned, servos up and holding Starscream as close as possible. Starscream shuddered and overloaded. Prowl swallowed around him, charge skittering across his plating from Starscream. His processor whirled, hips pushing up over and over again into nothing.

‘Close. Please. Hard,’ He commed Starscream.

Starscream’s servo finally, finally _slapped_ his valve.

Prowl locked up, confused inputs lighting up his sensor net. His defense protocols whirled online and seized against his interface protocols, both of them driving themselves up several high alert levels and hitting his TACNET at just the right moment to push his processor into one crystalline moment of absolute nothingness.

Then it all crashed back into him, overloading his circuits completely.

\- - -

“Manufactured second-rate soldier,” Prowl growled.

“Wannabe class traitor,” Starscream hissed back. His mouth was soft on Prowl’s as they crashed into a kiss, but his claws dug into the wiring at the base of Prowl’s door wings. Prowl arched into it, but kept his denta to himself.

Compromise.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm taking summer heat prompts on twitter [@robopunkcfb](https://twitter.com/robopunkcfb)


End file.
